


Beach Night

by cyanhoodie



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, Underage Drinking, i guess, there really is no parts showing them but it's kind of implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 17:58:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2516732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyanhoodie/pseuds/cyanhoodie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean and Marco are invited to Eren's beach party and Jean loses his shirt. That's basically the whole story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beach Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theicarustheory](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theicarustheory/gifts).



> Alright so it's been a really long time since I've written any kind of story so at least give me credit that I tried.

It was way too early for this.

What was it? Twelve in the afternoon? Still too early. Either way- that consistent buzzing noise poked and prodded into his dreams until, finally, with a long groan Jean begrudgingly opened his eyes, glaring at the ceiling. What did he do to deserve woken up at this ungodly hour? Throwing out arm Jean patted around his nightstand, searching around for his phone. Finally grabbing it, he brought up to his ear, clicking the answer call button and mumbling a groggy “hello?” into the phone.  Greeted with a much too cheery hello in return, the teenager was easily able to identify the voice of none other than Armin.

“What the fuck do you want?” He growled into the receiver, the only clear thought on his mind being possible murder. Silence. “Armin?” A quiet hum alerted the male that the other was still on the line. “Did you have something to tell me or did you just want to listen to my breathing?” Jean questioned, only growing more irritated by the second.

“Oh! Right- sorry, Jean! I was just going to see if you were going to come to Eren’s party tonight. Did I wake you?” _Party? What party?_

“Yes.”

“Yes you’re coming to the party or yes I woke you up?”

“Both.” Using that as his parting word, he hung up the phone, resisting from launching it across the room. Knowing all too well he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, Jean groaned and threw off his covers, swinging his legs off the side of the bed while mumbling incoherent curses. Pausing at the doorway of his room he realized he had absolutely no idea when and where the party was. Probably at Levi’s beach house. Somehow that kid could persuade that short stack into letting him rent it out for a night or two- so long as he kept it clean, that is.

Shrugging, he decided he’d give the other a ring later, knowing that if it was Eren throwing a party he still had plenty of time. Now, for more important matters- like breakfast. Not even bothering to put anything on it, Jean grabbed a bagel and made quick work of it, the feeling of something in his stomach allowing him to lighten up just a little bit. Another thing- he needed a ride. Definitely not getting any help from Eren there, he already had a full car with Armin and Mikasa and all the shit they bring with them.

“Marco is it then.” The blonde declared, knowing his friend would be too kind-hearted to reject his request. Walking back into his room, he snatched his phone off the table, already halfway to Marco’s contact information. Drumming his fingers against the desk in his room he impatiently waited for the freckled idiot to pick up the phone. Getting no answer, Jean quickly changed into a dark purple t-shirt, threw on some khaki shorts and practically flew out the door.

Usually he’d take his mother’s car, but she decided to get a new paint job and _wow_ was it eye-blinding. Jean didn’t even leave the house before she did anymore, it was that embarrassing to be seen coming out of the house and passing, let alone getting into, that horrific excuse for a car.   
No, he wasn’t _that_ desperate for a ride.

 

Jogging down the street towards Marco’s house Jean swore silently to himself. It was fucking _hot_ outside and here he was wearing a dark t-shirt. Smart, Jean, smart. Finally getting to the driveway, the blonde shot up the steps to the front door, banging on it loudly. Marco’s parents weren’t home, he knew- hence why he was being so obnoxiously loud in announcing his arrival. “Marco! Get your lazy ass up and out here!” He shouted, just about ready to kick the door in.

Of course just as he was about to lift his hand to pound on the door one more time, the door knob turned and out came a rather disheveled looking Marco. “Well aren’t you just a morning beauty.” Jean stated with a sneer, looking the other up and down.

“Jean it’s just barely past noon. What are you doing awake?” His friend mumbled, electing to ignore the comment.

“Exactly. What were you doing asleep?”

“What?”

“Never mind! Are you going to Eren’s party?”

At this, the freckled teenager merely blinked in response, causing Jean to frown. “Hey. Hey, Marco! You alive?” He said loudly, snapping his fingers in front of his friend’s face, jerking him back to the real world. “That tired, huh?”

Marco nodded in response, bringing a hand up to run through his bedhead. “ Yeah, had to watch my sister yesterday.” He mumbled, using the frame of the doorway to support his weight.

“The freckled one?” At Jean’s comment, Marco had to blink twice and bring a hand up to check his ears to make sure he wasn’t losing it.

“I’m going to pretend that you never said that.” Obviously not seeing what was wrong with what he had said, Jean stared curiously at Marco, but eventually just shrugged it off.

“Whatever. Are you going to Jaeger’s party or not?”

“Eren’s having a party?”

“Is that a no?”

“Uh, I don’t-“

Just as Marco began to speak, the Bodt’s house phone went off, causing them both to jump and Jean to nearly topple off the edge of the front porch. Grabbing Jean’s wrist, Marco hauled his friend away from the edge and into the house. “You’ve obviously been awake longer and yet I’m still more balanced than you.”

With that the freckled teenager released his friend’s wrist from his grip, sauntering into the kitchen to answer the device that was making a sound that was just shy of a screech of a dying animal.

The Bodt family really needed a new phone.

Flopping down on the couch, Jean stared up at the ceiling, lazily trying to pick out the other’s muffled words as he spoke into the phone. _Finally_ , after what seemed like hours to Jean, he had hung up. Neck still craned back to stare up, Jean barely registered it when Marco plopped down beside him. “That was Armin. He says I’m welcome to come over.”

“So, you going to the party or not?”

“ _Yes_ , Jean. I’m going to the party.”

“Good ‘cause I need a ride.”

“I feel like that’s all you ever need me for, these days.”

Turning his head, the blonde stared curiously at Marco, obviously at a loss for what he meant. “Huh?”

“Nothing, Jean.” Was the only response he got, which was accompanied by a sigh.

“Well fine then.” He mumbled, pushing himself off from the couch. “So you gonna drive me or not?” Seeing Marco nod in response, he let out a huff of air, raising his arms above his head to stretch, shirt riding up enough to reveal his taut stomach. Throwing his arms back down, Jean yawned and scratched the back of his head, surprised to catch Marco staring at him as if he’d just killed someone. “What?”

“You make the most obscene noises when stretching, you know that?”

“What?”

“Oh god I don’t have time for this, just get ready.”

“But I am ready.”

“Good then let’s go.” With these words Marco tossed his car keys to Jean, the blonde fumbling to catch it. “Get the car started, I need to go get changed.” Watching as his friend trudged up the flight of stairs, Jean mumbled an “okay” in response and walked out the door, letting out a sound similar to a hiss as the sun decided to shine directly in his eyes.

“I fucking _hate_ mornings.”

____________________

 

Pulling out of the driveway, Marco tried his best to block out Jean’s whining. “Why can’t I drive? Don’t you trust me with your car? I’m not a little kid, I know how to drive a stick-shift.”

Snorting, Marco kept his eyes on the road, barely glancing at the other from the corner of his eye. “First, you asked for a ride, not my car. Second, no- I don’t actually. You have terrible road rage. Three-“

“No I-”

“Three,” Marco continued to speak as if Jean had never tried to interrupt. “You may not be a kid anymore and say you know what you’re doing, but I don’t want to die today.”

Huffing quietly, Jean crossed his arms over his chest and stared out the window. “Why are we leaving so early anyway?”

“Jean, it’s a four hour drive. Levi got a new beach house- don’t you remember?”

“What? No. But still, we’ll be there around five-ish. We spent more time at your house than I expected.”

“The party starts at six.”

“Why so early?”

Letting out a sigh, Marco slowed to a stop at a red light, finally twisting around to look at his companion. “It starts at six. It’s always started at six. Every single time. You’re just always really late.”

Oh. Going silent from there, the two-toned haired male leaned further into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared ahead. Usually he would let out some sort of retort but he does faintly remember Armin telling him almost every time he was invited it was at six. He really had no place to fit in an argument.

____________________

 

After a very long and boring car ride, the two found themselves staring at a rather impressive piece of beachfront property. A long whistle escaped past Jean’s lips as he surveyed the exterior of the house. “This one’s definitely less beat up than the last one.”   
  
“That’s kind of our fault, though. With the last beach house I mean. People can get pretty rowdy after just a few drinks.”

“True.” Jean conceded, rolling his shoulders before he walked up the stairs to the door, tapping on the glass with his knuckles. Marco, meanwhile, was having difficulty not worrying about his car. Large house, small amount of room for parking. The beach was already packed as it was when they arrived. He’d managed to squeeze somewhere in the parking lot, fortunately for them. Or else they would have had to park on the side of the road.

Sauntering up behind his friend, Marco grinned warmly when Mikasa came to the door, wearing a red tank top and shorts.  Jean, of course, grinned as well, but Marco knew him well enough for it to be for a completely different reason entirely. Snorting, the freckled teen opened his arms to wrap the girl in a hug, patting her back and then pulling away. “It’s been awhile! Have you been accepted to any colleges yet? Are Eren and Armin here?”  
  
Mikasa nodded, offering a smile in return. “They’re finishing setting up a few things. Other guests already showed up, they’re out back. And no, not yet. I’m still waiting for a response from some.” With that, the girl gave Jean a quick hug as well, waving her hand and disappearing around the corner to take care of whatever needed to be finished.

“She still looks pretty good.”

“Jean.”

“Right, sorry.”

Sure, he had feelings for Mikasa at one point, but it was never anything serious. It was that middle school crush kind of feeling. Not very important, but exciting nonetheless. It had faded over time, but it was still back there somewhere.

Besides, you could say Jean widened his variety of searches when it came to his love life. Whenever anyone asked, he would just shrug and give a noncommittal grunt. He wasn’t entirely sure _what_ his sexuality was. He liked girls, he liked guys, he liked the in between you name it. But sometimes it just felt odd and not right. But that’s only because of the way he was raised. But that’s another story for another time.

One thing the blonde _was_ well aware of is that he definitely didn't have the _cleanest_ of thoughts about particular people. Especially freckled idiots who was still sporting a bad bedhead and staring at him as if he had grown two heads.

“Huh?”

“I said, are you coming? You alright?” A frown was etched across Marco’s face as he brought a hand up to scratch the back of his head.

Coughing, Jean gave a small nod, brushing past his friend and entering the hallway.

“Other way.”

“Oh.”

____________________

 

Lights flashed as sweaty bodies swarmed around him, dancing to the beat and laughing at people who were already slurring. It was probably a little after ten-thirty, Jean assumed, making his way past a group crowding around Armin and cheering him on as he downed a shot. Poor kid. If he kept on like that he would have one hell of a hangover. Squeezing past them, he jumped on the counter, sliding next to Marco’s side. “One more round?” He offered, handing his friend a beer.

Marco was never a really big drinker, but at parties like this he could let loose for a bit. “Sure.” Taking the drink from Jean’s hand, he made quick work of it, leaving Jean staring in amusement.  “What?”

“Nothin’.”

The brunet “That look on your face sure doesn’t-” Immediately he was cut off by an excited and most likely very drunk Connie.

“Quit eye-fucking each other an' smile.”

Jean was left spluttering at the comment, whereas Marco’s face just flushed a tad before he shrugged and stood next to Jean as Connie lifted up the camera.

“C’mon; pretend you actually love each other and are having a good time.”

Grumbling, Jean wrapped his arm around Marco’s shoulder, the brunet mimicking his movements.   
  
“Better! Now smile, idiots,”

To add a little more fun to the picture, Marco raised his beer. Jean’s gaze, however, was traveling across Marco’s face when the picture was taken. No one would notice that, right? And even if they did, there was no way they could get much out of it.

“Alright, see ya around, lovebirds!” With that the nearly-bald looking boy dashed off, taking snapshots of other people here and there. The pair knew he wanted to be a photographer but why take pictures of something like this for a portfolio of sorts? Maybe it was just for fun. Who knew?

 

____________________

Lightly colored eyes scanned the waning crowd as people stumbled slowly into the bathroom, most likely to throw up their insides until they were dry-heaving. _Gross_. Just the thought of having to walk in there if he needed to go left Jean gagging. That gagging turned into a strangled cry as a hand was clamped onto his now bare shoulder. He didn’t really know where it had went, his shirt I mean. Oh well.

“Whoa, hey, relax. It’s just me.”

“ _Christ_ , Marco! A simple _hello_ would have been nice.”

“Sorry, I guess.”

Marco’s thoughtful gaze was focused on Jean’s lack of a shirt. “What happened here?” Now to clarify, Marco was the shameless drunk. His words may not come out as slurred as other people (most likely because he didn’t get _as drunk_ as they did), but brown eyes would definitely wander. Of course afterwards he would feel guilty for staring, that was when he wasn’t drunk and was nursing a hangover.  Speaking of wandering eyes, Marco was now unabashedly eyeing his friend’s chest. It was a completely platonic thing to do, right- admire how much your friend had grown since junior high? _And to lick your lips while doing so._

Jean may not be the sharpest tool in the shed but he wasn’t completely oblivious. Needless to say he was grateful for the darkness as his face began to gain more color. “Like what you see, Bodt?”

A small shrug. “Maybe I do.”

 _Oh_.

“Oh.”

“Is there a problem with that?” Cue the concerned and nervous tone of voice. If Jean said that wasn’t even a little bit cute he’d be lying. But now he was trying to figure out if he should feel excited or guilty, or neither. Settling on his _‘I’ll just go with it’_ option which usually just floated around in the air whenever it came to make decisions like these, his mouth twitched upwards in a grin.

“No, never would be.”

Marco mirrored his friend’s expression, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him close until his mouth hovered by the two-toned haired boy’s ear. “There’s something I should probably tell you, but it can wait ‘til later, no?”

The mix of the words for full of promise and hot breath on his ear sent a shiver down Jean’s spine, and he just gave a small nod as his mind blanked out for a moment. This had to some sort of crazy dream. He was probably a little _too_ drunk. That’s what this was, some sort of drunk dream. It had to be. But oh did he hope it wasn’t.

One thing he did know was that he was going to have one hell of a morning when he woke up.


End file.
